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PHOTO: LYDIA ECCLES

EDITORIAL

Let me start by asking you a question. If you don’t know,
just guess, how long—months, weeks, days, hours, minutes,
seconds—how long do you think it takes for the human
population to increase by one million? Net increase.

Okay, I’ll give it to you, it’s four days. Four days, a
quarter million per day, if you do the math, that comes
out to 95 million people per year, and just for a reference, 95
million is the population of Mexico, so next time you look
at a map of the world, look at Mexico, and imagine
the human population increasing by
Mexico, every year.

What do we do with all those people?

They all need to eat, they all need
houses, clothes, TVs, cars, and every
other damn thing, who are we to say
they shouldn’t have them, and what’s the
result? The global environmental crisis.

Massive species extinction.

Ecocide . In the United
States alone we lose an
acre of trees every
eight seconds.

Worldwide, we’re
now losing an entire
species every 40
minutes, that’s up from
every sixty minutes in the
1970’s, and in the tropical
rainforest we’re losing a species
every fifteen minutes . By some
estimates we’ve already wiped out
one third of the species on earth.

Those species are gone , they’re
not coming back, this isn’t some
cute nature show on television, this
is real . In terms of sheer power, this is
our great accomplishment: severely damaging the chemical
and organic structure of an entire planet, including the
oceans and the atmosphere. We’ve got to do something,
very quickly, and the most important thing we can do is
reduce our numbers. It’s something each one
of us can do, it doesn’t require special
training, and that’s why I, myself, and every
one of the Church of Euthanasia’s members
have taken a lifetime vow to not procreate.

Now people say to me, population
reduction is one thing, but how can you
support suicide and euthanasia, isn’t that
going too far, and I say this: right now, one
third, that’s a rough figure, it’s probably
higher, one third of the people on this earth
are going to bed hungry every night. Does
this surprise you? Maybe you’re lucky: maybe you live in
a country that still has some topsoil, or maybe your country
steals food from everyone else. Don’t get too smug, though,
because simple arithmetic says the population will reach 8
billion by 2010. Now that’s well within my, and many of
your lifetimes, and I’m telling you that if we, as individuals,
allow that to happen, we are going to see suffering on a

Banana Cup Cake

Banana

Cake

Broken tea cups
— Lori Kramer

scale we can’t even imagine yet, even right here, in the
United States, and some of you are going to wish you had
killed yourselves, because this planet is going to be a very
grim and frightening place. It already is for most people.

So that’s why I say “save the planet, kill yourself.”
Because it really has come to this, and if you’ve had enough,
and you want to get out of the game, and you honestly
believe that’s the best thing you can do for yourself and
for the planet, I, Rev. Chris Korda, am not going to stand
in your way. I’ll make you a Euthanasian saint. And if no
one listens to me, and the population keeps on growing,
until there’s no trees, and no hope, I’ll join you. I think
about it every day, and I feel shame. I’m ashamed of
the way humans have behaved, especially
American humans. When I look at the ugliness
Americans have created in just two
hundred years, and when I read about
the “savages” we’ve exterminated
to make room for our so-called
civilization, I feel suicidal rage , and
that’s okay, because that’s what the
Church of Euthanasia is all about.
Now suppose, for the sake of
argument, we divide people into two
groups: those who think there are too
many of us, and those who think there
aren’t enough. If you think there are too
many of us, why not take some personal
responsibility for it? Maybe we’re the
church for you. But if you think there’s
not enough of us, consider your allies. The
people who oppose euthanasia, and say it’s
morally wrong, are very often the same
people who oppose abortion; they’re
the same people who oppose
contraception and family planning;
they’ve opposed sex for pleasure for a
thousand years, and you know who these
people are, they are the Catholic church and the
fundamentalist Christians. Their religious teachings have
been a disaster for the planet, and we cannot allow them to
dominate us any longer. They’re the real sinners, and

they can’t help themselves, so we have to
help them: we have to lead by example.

How do we lead by example? By
practicing sex for pleasure, it’s a
revolutionary act, remember Joycelyn
Elders, she wanted to teach masturbation
and look what happened to her ... by
showing the maximum compassion for all
beings, we can start by not eating their
flesh, why are we feeding most of our grain
to cattle when people are starving ... by
supporting abortion, we’re not pro-choice,
we’re pro -abortion, why isn’t it free, it’s every woman’s
sacred right ... by supporting Dr. Jack Kevorkian and
the right to die, and above all by choosing to not procreate,
until their churches are empty and ours is full, until the
population is reduced to a sustainable level, and balance is
restored between ourselves and every other species on this
beautiful, living planet. Thank you.

LETTERS

About a month ago, three British alleged neo-Nazi kids
who had been vacationing in America for six weeks blew
their brains out—two of them simultaneously at an Arizona
gun range, the other one the next day on a little-traveled
Northern California road.

The woman who shot herself alone—Jane Greenhow,
22—had called our voice mail a few days before killing
herself, asking to verify our PO box address. I ignored the
first call, but responded the next day after she left a similar
message with the admonition “don’t bother calling after
tomorrow.” She sounded intensely depressed, but all she
wanted to know was whether our PO box was still valid. I
told her that it was.

On March 4—a full two weeks after she killed herself—
I finally received her letter, which stated that she felt unable
to articulate her frustration with life. She also sent me three
$700 money orders—her life’s savings. Knowing that with
my recent luck I’d be struck by lightning if I spent a penny
of it, I sent the money back to her parents.

Jane had a degree in astrophysics and read ANSWER
Me! Too bad she fit into the 1/10th of 1 percent
demographic which actually had value in my book. Whereas
the great bulk of human suffering doesn’t do a thing for
me, her departure actually saddened me greatly.

You can imagine how the press—especially the
vampiric British press—is treating these suicides. DID A
PORTLAND PUBLICATION ‘GOAD’ THREE BRITS
INTO KILLING THEMSELVES? et al. Typically, the ones
who would portray me as some unfeeling creep have
displayed far less remorse over Jane’s death than I have. I
figure the Nazi affiliation (Jane had left a note signed “Mrs.
Hitler” next to her body) renders these goofy kids
nonhuman in some eyes.

Anyway, I wanted to gently caution you to be careful
regarding your publishing endeavors. You and I know that
depression and suicidal impulses betoken a mental condition
which can’t be neatly traced to (or blamed on) one source.
However, in a social climate which tends to abdicate any
notion of personal responsibility, very few others seem to
know this. Since I see value in what you’re doing, I’d hate
to see you become embroiled in the sort of controversy/
lawsuits which have dogged us for the past couple years.

I think, Dr. Railly, you've given the alarmists
a bad name . . . surely there's very real and
very convincing data that the planet cannot
survive the excesses of the human race.
Proliferation of atomic devices . . .
uncontrolled breeding habits . . . pollution of
land, sea and air, the rape of the
environment ... in this context isn't it
obvious that Chicken Little represents the
sane vision, and that homo sapiens ' motto —
"let's go shopping" —is the cry of the true
lunatic?

—Dr. Peters , "12 Monkeys"

Beyond a critical point within a finite space,
freedom diminishes as numbers increase.
This is as true of humans in the finite space
of a planetary ecosystem as it is of gas
molecules in a sealed flask. The human
question is not how many can possibly
survive within the system, but what kind of
existence is possible for those who do
survive.

—Pardot Kynes, First P/anetologist of Arrakis

Believe me, it’s nowhere near as fun as it might seem.
And I’m not advising that you soften your approach—but
it might make sense to lay the disclaimers on a little thicker.
—Jim Goad, goad@teleport.com

ooooooooooooo

I make my money from the Defense Department. Usually
I feel embarrassed to tell people because they associate
Warfare with the inhumanity of killing people, but I can
tell you with pride. Since reading your publication I have
a whole new perspective on my career. The only problem
is the U.S. usually kills third world people who don’t
consume as much of the world’s resources as first world
people. Also the Defense Dept, is the top worst polluter.
I hope to offset that by sending you a contribution each
month so you can continue your good work.

P.S. I think Rev. Korda may be the 1st 21st century saint.
Please document any miracles (preferably with video) so
the canonization will go smoothly.

P.P.S. Typed on a Defense Dept, typewriter.

ooooooooooooo

I received the latest SNUFF iT, and i must state that i was
again impressed. I have always known that breeding was
not at all for me, and although i have only recently pursued
such a philosophy (after discovering the definition of what
had before only been within me a vague but relatively
eternally-practiced concept), it is one to which i shall
forever adhere. That there are other folk out there who
not only believe related philosophies and ethics but advocate
them and still enjoy life, is nice to know.

—Rev. Randall Tin-ear

ooooooooooooo

I work as a secretary during the day with the Passaic Board
of Education at the High School in the MediaCenter and
see the awful results of human overbreeding every day.
Our school enrollment has increased about 750 kids each
year in the past three years. The Board is having to lease
new buildings every year and build additions on existing
schools to compensate for the overcrowding. I live in a
building where the apartments are very small and yet my
fellow tenants insist on overbreeding and providing shelter
to their young ones in a space that only one would be
comfortable in. Needless to say the problem of
overbreeding is all around me daily but how do you speak
up about it? Procreation is the most sacred of rights and if

you talk about it to people (even intelligently) they think
you are a Nazi or something worse. Why do only a few of
us see what is wrong? Why are so many fools still bringing
children into the world? I have a full life and never had
any children—what is this compulsion to breed?

—David R. Wyder (Daily Cow)

0000000060000

You can count on me to help you in any way I can. If
abortion were mandatory it would prevent people like me
from ever being born. I once considered having kids but
when I realized they might all turn out to look like me (I
look like Herve Vilachez), I immediately had my doctor
castrate me. I’d kill myself but I’m too chicken shit. I
just bought a new Harley and I’m hoping I’ll have an
unfortunate accident while riding it. As it is, my feet barely
touch the ground when I sit on it and I can barely reach the
handle bars. Let’s hope I cross paths with a pyschotic
truck driver! Keep up the good work!

—Marc (Herve) Bifano

The Church of Euthanasia is a nonprofit educational
foundation devoted to restoring balance between Humans
and the remaining species on Earth. We believe this can only
be accomplished by a massive voluntary population
reduction, which will require a leap in Human consciousness
to a new species awareness. The Church is exempt from
federal income tax under 501(a) and 501(c)(3), EIN 04-324-
9910. Donations are tax-deductible.

editor:

asst, editors:
photo editor:
proofreader:
typist:
scan boy:
postal:

e-mail:

ftp:

gopher:

www:

www mirror:

Rev. Chris Korda

Pastor Kim, Sister Catherine, Lydia Eccles

William Plowman

Nevada Kerr

Nancy Young

Justin P. Moore

The Church of Euthanasia

P.O.Box 261

Somerville, MA 02143

coe@netcom.com

ftp.etext.org /pub/Zines/Snuffit

gopher.etext.org Zines/Snuffit

www.paranoia.com/coe/

www.envirolink.org/orgs/coe/

THANKS to $aint @ndrew, Tim Anderson, Bob Baden,
Cardinal Bailey, Ronald Bleier, Boboroshi, James Bredt,
Henryk Broder, Sister Catherine, Jim Cypher, Becky Day,
Tess Decosta, Christopher Dinardo, Dane Donato, Lydia
Eccles, Paulie Gurspan, Annie Harrison, America Hoffman,
lah House, Susan Johnson, Slyther Kalson, Deacon Kelly,
Pagan Kennedy, Nevada Kerr, Angela Kimberk, Ryu Kirtz,
Keith Krisa, Father Lamorte, Dan Martinez, T 81 Izzy Max,
Nova Maynard, Cassy Mitchell, Kent Miller, Justin P. Moore,
Nina Paley, Anne Phillips, Stephen M. Pike, William Plowman,
Kevin Roche, Ashkan Sahini, Pastor Scott, Doug Sery, Sara
Stewart, Vermin Supreme, Mike Therion, Toto, Karen Tozzi,
Burt Urbanowski, Jamie Wheelock, Nancy Young, and
especially Pastor Kim.

CHURCH NEWS

Lydia Eccles Interviews Rev. Chris Korda

LE: Last year about this time you were soliciting funds for
a suicide assistance hotline. Whatever happened to that?
CK: That was Pastor Scott’s idea, and it got off to a great
start. The plan was to get a 900 number, put up a billboard
for it, maybe take out a few advertisements. People would
call up and pay to hear suicide assistance messages from a
voice mail system. We were going to have a bunch of
prerecorded messages—celebrity suicides, techniques from
A to Z, damned good reasons to do it, style, etiquette—
you could listen to all these messages and get useful tips
on how to kill yourself, without making a big mess and
inconveniencing a lot of people—and meanwhile you’d be
paying by the minute and the Church would be making
money. I made a bet with Pastor Scott that he would never
get Ackerley [our local billboard company] to put up the
billboard, and that if he did I’d pay for the hotline. He
won the bet; they would say things like, “Are you sure you
want it to say ‘suicide assistance hotline’? It almost sounds
like you’re going to help people kill themselves.” He’s
such a smooth operator, he was able to totally flummox
them.

LE: They thought it was a suicide prevention hotline.
CK: Absolutely. And we figured, what the hell? If
Ackerley buys it, then maybe Nynex will buy it too. But it
didn’t work out that way. Nynex turned out to be quite a
bit sharper than Ackerley. They took one look at our web
site and the game was over.

LE: But you had no problem getting the billboard up.
CK: And what a great billboard it was: “Suicide Assistance
Hotline—helping you every step of the way. Thousands
helped, how about you?” It was just a shame that the
number didn’t work.

LE: Did you contact lawyers about it?

CK: Yeah, but we couldn’t find one who’d take the case
pro bono , and the ACLU didn’t return our calls.

LE: Did you do any research on the legality of providing
concrete assistance to people who want to kill themselves?
CK: Let them sue, we need the publicity. Besides, you
can walk into any bookstore and buy a book like Final Exit
that gives specific suicide instructions—drug dosages,
everything. With Dr. Kevorkian leaving bodies in cars
and getting away with it, I figured the courts probably
wouldn’t bother with us.

LE: How about the other billboard activities this year?
CK: Well, there was a billboard modification in
Cambridge...

LE: “Man’s mind, once stretched by a new idea—

CK: “never regains its original dimensions.” That’s right.
It was modified to say “Man’s anus, once stretched by”—
LE & CK: “a big penis”

CK: “never regains its original dimensions.” Now whoever
did this—these were obviously very disturbed individuals
with sociopathic tendencies, presenting a serious danger
to society.

LE: Although they were advocating sodomy so technically
the Church would have to stand aside and applaud.

CK: But we can’t have people running around modifying
billboards and so forth; I mean, that’s against the law.

PHOTO: LYDIA ECCLES

LE: I heard that the billboard got a lot of attention, and
that the Boston Herald was interested and wanted to do a
story but the editors nixed it.

CK: Isn’t that funny, that’s what I heard too. I also heard
that while the culprits were putting it up, people were
stopping their cars in the middle of the street and honking
their horns and hooting and hollering and getting out of
their cars and taking pictures. It’s kind of interesting that
the Boston Herald went to all the trouble to send a crew
down there to take pictures and interview everybody about
it and then nixed the story at the last minute, but I guess
you can’t expect too much from the Boston Herald.

LE: I heard it was up on the bulletin board at the paper,
and everybody really liked it. But I guess the editorial
decision-makers—their minds remained the original size.
CK: [laughs]

LE: How about the Institute for Global Dada event—this
was during the heyday of Pat Buchanan, during the
primaries, when Buchanan was
making anti-Semitic remarks—

CK: He’d just won New Hampshire,
hadn’t he?

LE: Yes, and he’d just come to speak
in Massachusetts and was using all
kinds of military rhetoric—you know,
really violent-sounding metaphors.

CK: It was primary day in
Massachusetts, around 7:30 in the
morning, in front of the Boston Public
Library—the largest polling place in
Boston, where all the Beacon Hill
brahmins in their pin-striped suits go
to vote. You were already there with
Doug and Jamie, holding “Unabomber
for President” signs. Meanwhile,
we’re tooling down the sidewalk with
what looks like a giant black tampon.

We unroll it, and hoist it up, and
suddenly it’s a 25-foot wide, 13-foot

tall black banner, with giant red
letters that say “GOP” and the “O”
is a solid red circle with a black
swastika cut out of it.

LE: Like something you would see
carried down a very wide
thoroughfare during a Nazi
demonstration.

CK: Yeah, it took 4 people to hold
it. Within 60 seconds, we were live
on New England Cable, and a few
minutes later the WRKO van was
going by and they literally slammed
on the brakes and pulled over. They
put me on the air and asked me what
I was doing, and I told them I was a
Buchanan supporter. I said I was
there to support my candidate like
everyone else, and that Buchanan
was the face of fascism in America.
I stuck to my story, and finally Jim
Rappaport [chairman of the state
Republican committee] got on the air and called me
disgusting. It was pure situationism, because on any other
day the cops would have just said, “you’re outta here” and
that would have been it. But this was one day when the
cops couldn’t tell anybody to not hold a sign because
everybody was holding signs, everywhere! All they could
do was make sure that we were a certain distance from the
polling booth—it was actually quite funny, because the cop
came out and said “Look, you all have to move”—what
was it?—“a hundred feet from the polls.” Right? So one
of the republican guys says to the cop, “You just mean
them, right, not us?” And the cop starts yelling
“Everybody! Everybody a hundred feet from the polls!”
So everybody had to back up. It was an amazing thing to
see. It got pretty rough towards the end, though—the
library staff finally took matters into their own hands. The
manager and the manager’s assistant came out with their
goon and started pushing and shoving, trying to make us

PHOTO: REV. CHRIS KORDA

£ mm

THE CONVENTION WAS JUST ANOTHER PEP RALLY, BUT OUTSIDE THE STADIUM, THE CIRCUS WAS IN TOWN

PHOTO: CATHERINE BODOCK

take the banner down, saying we were on private property
when we weren’t, and then the goon threw hot coffee in
Toto’s face and punched him in the mouth. He was only
taking pictures and got his lip busted—it was very
unpleasant. I guess that’s what happens when you call a
spade a spade.

LE: You spent a week at the Democratic National
Convention campaigning for Unapack [the Unabomber for
President Campaign] and then afterwards we all stopped
off in Gary, Indiana and took photographs there. What
was the reason for stopping in Gary and what is the
significance of Gary to the Church?

CK: I viewed it from the
beginning as making a
| pilgrimage to Gary. I grew up
in New York, but I’d always
heard that Gary beat anything
I’d ever seen, so I felt it was
my duty to go out there and see
what had been done to the
Earth. We were driving down
1-90 when suddenly you could
actually see it from the
highway; I remember the
moment very clearly—we were
all stunned. I don’t think any
of us were prepared for just how
complete and utter the
devastation was—it went on for
miles and miles and you could
see the clouds of smoke in the
air. It really was a scene from
hell. At that time, I knew that I would have to go to where
the refineries were, to get up close and see it. I hooked up
with $t. @ndrew (OGYR Network) and Pope Phred, and
they drove us out there. I was staying with Deacon Kelly,
and he kind of knew his way around, so he came along too.
We were driving around all day, looking at the refineries.
We stayed in the car mostly, but I got out and got down on
my knees and prayed in front of one. I was so moved that
you and I decided it would be worth it to go out there and
do it again, do it properly.

LE: We tried to get close to one of them and ended up
getting followed by security.

PHOTOS: REV. CHRIS KORDA

PHOTO: LYDIA ECCLES

CK: It was a disaster! We were being followed the whole
time by these Cherokee Jeep things with flashing lights on
them. We were in the belly of the beast and they didn’t
like us one bit. They pulled us over and asked us to leave,
and instead we pulled over somewhere else and got out
and started taking pictures inside the perimeter, and then
they nailed us. They wanted our film, and I think they
were pretty much ready to haul us off until you told them
we were doing a fashion shoot.

LE: One of the things that amazed me was in the midst of
all that wasteland and smoke to see tract housing popping
up in between the factories every once in a while.

CK: It was right out of Eraserhead; people living in the
middle of an industrial wasteland. People are born and
raised and grow old and die without ever leaving Gary,
Indiana. I’ve never seen anything worse.

LE: You also made a pilgrimage to the Rainbow this year—
tell me about that.

CK: The Church’s annual meeting was held at the Rainbow
Gathering, somewhere in the Ozark National Forest, in
Missouri. It was my first Gathering, so it was quite an
experience for me. I drove down with my friend Kevin—
he’s been to a bunch of them and told me a bit about it, but
nothing could have prepared me for it really; it was unlike
anything else I’ve been exposed to. The most obvious
difference is it’s a money-free zone; it’s considered deadly
impolite to offer people money at a Gathering. Another
big difference is there’s no homeless people; the general
idea is that even if you have only the most minimal social

skills, somewhere, somehow, somebody’s going to feed
you. There are people who show up with nothing, not
even a cup or a spoon or a blanket. Nobody’s going to
serve them without a cup—they’re going to have to find
one or make one out of a Pepsi bottle or something. But
once they do then somebody’s going to feed them and
they’re going to be taken care of and not just left to die.
That’s a very different way of looking at things. Some
people arrive months before and put tremendous energy
and love into feeding people, other people show up with
nothing—most people are somewhere in the middle, and
hopefully it all balances out.

LE: Did you do any Church activities while you were there,
I mean aside from having your meeting?

CK: Well, I came prepared to cause major trouble. I lugged
all these signs in with me, like, “The Rainbow Family is
Big Enough”, “Bear Asses Not Children,” “A Hippie with
Kids is Looking for Work,” “Peace, Love and Sterility”—
I was prepared to really tear it up with those Rainbow
people.

LE: This was because you thought there’d be a lot of
breeders.

CK: And there were a lot of breeders. But when it came
down to it, I just couldn’t do it. I would have been totally
by myself. I couldn’t find a single other person to carry
one of those signs.

LE: Also I got the impression that you
wanted to just enjoy the experience of
being there.

CONTINUED

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The CoE has as part of its guiding principles a fondness for this planet.
If this is so, how can you not value humankind after having any kind of
a life? [What a piece of work is man, etc.]

-Lee

Unlike other “misanthropic” organizations (e.g. VHEMT,
GLF), the CoE does not advocate complete Human
extinction—except as a last resort, should efforts to restore
balance between Humans and the remaining species fail.
It was exceedingly difficult for nineteenth-century Indians
to value the white man while he was systematically
destroying their way of life. It’s equally difficult for me
to value Humans while they’re turning the Earth into a
giant sewer. Nonetheless, many Indians did—and still do—
manage to feel sympathy for whites. I usually manage to
feel sympathy for Humans, but don’t push your luck by
bragging about how great they are.

What does cannibalism have to do with
the Church's mission, other than the
shock value? Isn't it enough that a
body be dead? What's the point of
eating it?

-Steve

If you’re a typical flesh-eating
Human in a “civilized”
industrial nation, you’ve
probably never killed anything
in your life. What do you think about as you bite into your
cheeseburger? Do you feel any compassion for the animal
that died so that you could live? Are you even aware that
you’re eating the flesh of an animal? How can you tell? Is
there any blood? Where are the skin and bones and organs?
Maybe they’re not good enough for you, fit only for your
pet. Are you aware that the animal you’re eating lived its
entire adult life in a tiny pen, force-fed, and unable to take

a single step? Do you think the people who killed the
animal spoke kindly to it, or prayed for it, or did anything
to make its death less painful? Could it be that they
smashed its head with a sledgehammer and threw it on a
conveyor belt? Could it be that the meat industry is
engineered to conceal these truths, to hide them from you
with processing and marketing? Would you enjoy your
cheeseburger as much if you had to watch the animal die
first? Do you think that the animal feels pain less than
you, or that its suffering is unimportant? Do you imagine
that you are superior to the animal?

Maybe if a third of the people on earth weren’t going
to bed hungry every night, often because their land was
taken away to grow food for livestock, and maybe if you
knew how to hunt and kill an animal, as an equal, with
weapons you made yourself with your bare hands, and
maybe if you knew how to skin the animal, how to remove
its flesh, how to cook what you could eat, preserve the
rest, and utilize every piece of the animal, wasting nothing,
and maybe if you were willing to get down on your knees
and thank the animal for allowing you to live, then maybe
you wouldn’t have to eat Human flesh instead.

The US population is growing faster than that of eighteen other
industrialized nations and, in terms of energy consumption, when
an American couple stops spawning at two babies, it's the same
as an average East Indian couple stopping at sixty-six, or an
Ethiopian couple drawing the line at one thousand.

-Joy Williams, "The Case Against Babies"

ABORTION AS A SACRED RITE

by Nevada Kerr

Abortion is a sacred rite that has been performed by women
for centuries. The midwife, healer, shaman or witch is the
holy abortionist. She has been hounded by Christians for
millennia. It is time for this witch-hunt to end! With the
help of the holy abortionist, in the form of the death
goddess, the crone, or the medusa, we will overcome this
new onslaught by the Christian fanatics. Century after
century these zealots try to impose their feeble morality
on women. They claim that
god has sovereign power over
issues of life and death. This
is far from the truth. Women
as the goddess incarnate in all
her forms and in particular in the shape of the hag, shrew,
or fury who devours life in her gaping mouth with her
sharp fangs, has sovereign power over issues of life and
death. Let us not forget that when she decides her children
are fated to die, so be it! She is the mother of necessity.
She is the groomless bride who traverses the bridge between
the worlds and carries the souls of aborted children to the

other side. Like Lilith, she mercifully robs them of their
breath. We are all on loan here and the death goddess
must protect her own interests! No one can argue with the
whirlwind who sweeps the doomed away! Her word is
law! Today we hope to invoke the wisdom and justice of
the sacred abortionist, and in defense of women we scoff
at these hysterical Christians! All hope for an
overpopulated planet is born in the darkness of her lethal
grasp! Praise loudly the victorious destroyer of unwanted
and unneeded children! She who has the right of
jurisdiction owns the souls of this earthly tribe! You may

shudder, shake, and tremble!
These are appropriate
responses. Fear, awe, dread,
and reverence are what the
death mother has come to
expect! With sickle in hand, she seizes the sated and weary
souls of the damned! These Christians here today only
make her job more difficult than it needs to be. Like a
goblin-mother, she who suckles the stillborn babe also
comforts the mad and possessed. Beloved and misguided
Christians—know that you are vigilantly watched over by
the ever-present destroyer who will someday swoop down
upon you and gracefully carry you away! The nature of
desire, the truth of life itself has always been death—the
all-seeing one who demands responsibility from those who
procreate and overpopulate this overburdened planet. Do
not misunderstand! She means to do harm! You can invoke
your insane and giddy god all day long. It will do no
good. He has no power here! She who whets your appetite
with sexual pleasures also whets the knife. She grasps,
binds, and enthralls! The holy abortionist only summons
those who are deserving of the call! She is free from
imperfection! Like husks removed from grain, the unborn
are hers! She marks her territory, a boundary these
Christians here today have crossed over. These misguided
Christians think they can strike a bargain with the grave,
shriek at the whirlwind, bellow and screech at the all-
devouring one. The fearful one, the holy abortionist is
deaf to their pleading and will win in the end!

There is in all things a pattern that is part of
our universe. It has symmetry, elegance, and
grace —those qualities you find always in that
which the true artist captures. You can find
it in the turning of the seasons, in the way
sand trails along a ridge, in the branch
clusters of the creosote bush or the pattern
of its leaves. We try to copy these patterns
in our lives and our society, seeking the
rhythms, the dances, the forms that comfort.
Yet, it is possible to see peril in the finding
of ultimate perfection. It is clear that the
ultimate pattern contains its own fixity. In
such perfection, all things move towards
death.

— from "The Collected Sayings of Maud'Dib"
by the Princess Irulan

'Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore,
and the breasts which never gave suck/' Luke 23:29 RSV

Jed, Happy, Kevin, Chrissy, Ike, Sothis, Nigel, Odin, Max, Seed, Casey, Sasha, Scott, Bob, Compost, Theresa, Whitefire, Niheala.

CK: Yeah, I didn’t want to have to be the Reverend the
whole time. I wanted to enjoy being close to the Earth,
with like-minded people, and that’s what I did and it was
the most powerful spiritual experience I’ve ever had. The
Fourth of July is the big day at the Gathering: the whole
morning it’s silent throughout the area, everyone forms a
huge circle around the sacred fire, thousands of people
meditating and praying their asses off, and then at noon
the children arrive in a big parade, the energy is released,
and everyone goes cuckoo. It was serious Earth magic,
the largest scale magic I’ve ever participated in.

LE: What is the purpose of the
Rainbow?

CK: Well, that’s hard to say,
because by long-standing
tradition, no one speaks for the
Rainbow family. The Rainbow
family is everyone who’s there.
I think there’s a strong Indian
influence—for example decisions
are made by consensus in open
councils, as opposed to the
democratic method, which is
tyranny of the majority over the
minority. There’s lots of music,
and hanging out, and eating, and
taking care of each other, and
making love, and purifying
yourself.

LE: You were there for a week.
As a city kid, how was it being
out in the woods for that long?
CK: It was awfully hot, but
clothing was optional, and there
was a nice creek to dip in. It was
a three-mile hike in, and I did the
hike several times, one time with a 50 lb. bag of rice; that
was rough. We were hauling around giant buckets of water
and digging shitters and carrying wood. I’m not used to
that type of thing, so my back hurt a lot, and the chiggers
were gross, but overall it was very exhilarating for me. I
was incredibly lucky; I found Scott Lamorte right away
and he hooked Kevin and me up with his friends at Bi The
Way kitchen. They are wonderful people; they welcomed
me into their family, and I’m very grateful.

LE: Okay, now I want to get on to the abortion clinic
activities. How did that get started?

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CK: I’m really not sure.

LE: I just remember that Der
Spiegel [the German equivalent of
Time Magazine ] was coming.

CK: Aaah, you’re so right. I’d been
wooing them all year, or they’d been
wooing me, really; it just had been
a matter of getting it hooked up.

They’d been saying that they were
going to come to Boston for months
and they finally were coming and
they were coming the week after we
got back from Chicago. Pastor Kim
and I talked about it and realized that
we were going to have to show them
a good time. I mean, they made it
pretty clear that they weren’t coming
all the way to Boston just to sit
around and chat and drink coffee.

They wanted to see us in action.

LE: So the first one was at Repro in
Brookline, and Operation Rescue
was supposedly going to be there but—

CK: Yeah, there was only a handful of them there.

LE: Let’s name off some of the signs you had because I
know they’re not all in the photos. “Fuck Breeding,”
“Sperm-Free Cunts for the Earth”—

CK: “Fetuses are for Scraping,” “Depressed? Commit
Spermicide”- [also “Make Love, Not Babies,” “No Kid,
No Labor,” “Love the Earth, Tie Your Tubes,” and
“Feeling Maternal? Adopt!”] Vermin Supreme was there,
and he was in rare form that day. He had his Satan mask
on and his little jiggling eyeballs—he had his megaphone
out and he was harassing people going by, saying something
about “This is Satan here, and I want you all to—

LE: “Watch TV, eat red meat, and try to drive your car as
much as possible—

CK: “Read a newspaper, and throw it away.”

LE: “And together we can make hell on Earth.”

CK: [laughs]

LE: He also asked passers-by to raise their hands if they
were using contraception, or if they’d been sterilized. And
a woman across the street was praying with a rosary, and
Vermin was yelling with a megaphone that we were going
to sacrifice a gerbil—

CK: Yes, we were going to sacrifice a gerbil to the unborn.
LE: And you were singing, “All we are saying” —

CK: “All we are saying is fetus pate.”

LE: The neighborhood around the clinic is very affluent
and boring, and it was great watching people walk by these
incredible signs and Vermin in his Satan mask and the dolls
nailed on to sticks with bloody hands and mouths—and many
of these people would just walk by and pretend there was
nothing strange going on at all.

CK: We got a good reaction from the clinic escorts, though,
and that was a huge relief. If they’d asked us to leave, we
would have had to leave, because they’re guarding the doors
and hopefully keeping the Christians from going in there
and shooting everybody. But the escorts liked us.

LE: Now was that the clinic where the shooting actually
took place?

CK: No, that was the next weekend.
Der Spiegel had such a good time that
they decided to come back. We’d
heard rumors that there was
something big happening at Preterm,
so Becky infiltrated Operation
Rescue and got the inside dope. We
wanted to turn the voltage way up,
so we decided to make a 15 foot tall,
6 foot wide “Eat a Queer Fetus for
Jesus” banner—we figured that might
get their attention. We had the
carnivorous babies again, but we
used much bigger sticks, just in case
there was trouble, and we added life-
size skulls on top, painted blood-red.
Also Vermin brought some gigantic
cartoon fetuses that he’d made out
of day-glo paper, plus we had all the
signs from last time.

PHOTO: HENRYK BRODER LE: Since I was videotaping, I was

at all of these events before you guys
showed up, which was fun because I got to see you make
your entrance. Before you came the Christians went
marching down the sidewalk in formation singing hymns
through megaphones. They got to the building and planted
themselves and they were starting to say their prayers when
all of a sudden I saw the “Eat a Queer Fetus for Jesus”
banner come marching down the street.

And everyone stopped, they were all
staring in total disbelief.

CONTINUED

E-SERMON #15

Dear brethren, these are difficult times we live in. I’m
sure that the bombing in Oklahoma leaves us all with a
deep uneasiness about our future here in the Land of
Opportunity. The Dollar drops precipitously against the
Yen, unemployment keeps rising no matter what the
president says, the streets are dirty and dangerous and
crawling with crazed crack dealers . . . even the atmosphere
is full of holes. It’s enough to make any decent citizen
depressed. But don’t despair! No matter how overwhelmed
and powerless you might feel in the face of such adversity,
there is something you can do, right here, maybe even
right now, to help solve all of these problems, and ensure
your happiness and the happiness of generations to come:
you can have a baby! That’s right, it’s time to raise a
family!

That woke you up, didn’t it? I saw you snoozing there
in the back row. Pay attention! This is important! Now,
you’ve heard the politicians complaining about the decline
of the family, and the collapse of moral values, right? And
how many of them are doing their share? Not many!
They’re too busy driving their fancy cars, and besides,
half of them are closet queers! They can complain until
they’re blue in the face, but they’re not going to save the
planet. It’s time to take matters into our own hands! If
you’re a guy, punch some holes in those rubbers, or better
yet, throw them out the window, and tell your beloved to
expect a little visit from the stork! She’ll understand, and
what’s more, she’ll respect you for it. If you’re a girl,
stop taking those poisonous birth control pills, today! Wait
for the right time of the month, ask your mother if you
don’t know what I mean, and then slip your boyfriend’s
penis into your vagina. Don’t be shy about it, just slide it
in and out until his sperm shoots right up into your cervix!
He’ll fall asleep, and you can rejoice in the absolutely
certain knowledge that you are carrying out God’s Plan on
Earth!

Think of all the years you’ve wasted, flushing that
sperm down the toilet, in condoms or wads of kleenex,
wiping it off your chin with a t-shirt, or even swallowing
it, when you could have been helping to save the planet!
But that’s okay, because with today’s modern scientific
miracles, it’s almost never too late! Soon you’ll be making
up for lost time, with a little cutie-pie on each nipple and a
bun in the oven. What joy! There’s no cure for the blues
like hungry mouths to feed. You won’t have time to feel
depressed anymore! You’ll be pumping out copies of
yourself like there’s no tomorrow, and if your man doesn’t
like it, well, you’ll just have to find another one! Slap him
in the face! Tell him to snap out of it and deliver the
goods, because only a crazy man would stand in the way
of God’s Plan! That’s grounds for divorce in any state,
and worse if he’s not careful!

The Founding Fathers of this great nation made laws
to protect us against men and women who use their sex
organs for lewd, disgusting perversions instead of
procreation. God doesn’t like people who masturbate, or
engage in unnatural acts, with members of the same sex no
less! God hates these wicked people, and strikes them down
with terrible diseases like herpes and AIDS! They are even
lower than animals, almost as low as abortionists, and the
Founding Fathers knew this and created sodomy laws so

these foul creatures could be safely locked away, or killed
like rabid dogs. Don’t let it happen to you! Would you
rather rot in a filthy jail cell, or follow the path of
righteousness? Would you rather roast in the electric chair,
or help build the new Jerusalem? You know the answer,
so what are you waiting for? Put your sex organs to work
for Jesus!

Hear me brethren, God needs warm bodies, right now!
God wants us to have more babies than fingers! God wants
us to fuck like bunnies until there’s no room for anything
else, not even animals! God doesn’t love animals! God
wants us to push the cows and pigs and chickens into the
sea, and still keep on fucking, until there’s no more space
left on Earth, until we tear into each other’s flesh like rats
in a cage, because GOD LOVES PEOPLE!

Dear brethren, let us rise, and sing along with the Borg:

No animals.

No cats to purr.

No dogs to scratch.

No birds to sing.

No cows to kill.

Dream, dream, we can dream,

We can dream.

(Wolf! Sheep! Wolf! Sheep!)

No lions to tame.

No cocks to crow.

No mice to trap.

No deer to kill.

Dream, dream, we can dream,

We can dream.

No animals.

Thanks to TMax and Izzy for translating the preceding
hymn from the Borg Collective. They can be reached at
The Noise, 74 Jamaica Street, Jamaica Plain, MA 02130.

The life of a laying hen begins in a hatchery. Because male
chicks will never lay eggs and are not bred to gain weight
quickly for slaughter, they are promptly suffocated, gassed,
or put through a crushing machine which grinds up their
bodies into pulp. Female chicks are de-beaked [see the film
Baraka ], toe-clipped, vaccinated, and sent to large
windowless buildings. At 20 weeks of age, when they are
ready to begin laying eggs, they are transferred to laying
houses, which typically hold 80,000 hens confined in wire
cages so small that 4-5 birds live in a cage the size of a single
newspaper page. Under these highly unnatural conditions,
hens become aggressive, cannibalistic, and often die from
stress. A 10-18% mortality rate is not considered unusual.
But on the factory farm, the individual animal is worth little
in terms of the overall profit margin.

THE CHURCH OF EUTHANASIA, P.O.BOX 261, SOMERVILLE, MA 02143 coe@netcom.com

SAVE THE PLANET
KILL YOURSELF

STPKY

THE POLICE
ARE YOUR FRIENDS

TPAYF

DRIVING DRUNK?

TAKE OFF YOUR SEAT BELT

TOYSB

THANK YOU FOR
NOT BREEDING

TYFNB

VASPA

SCREWING THE NEXT
SEVEN GENERATIONS

STNSG

IDRBB

GOD IS COMING

STICK OUT YOUR TONGUE

GODIC

REAL MEN
WEAR SKIRTS

RMWSK

WHO NEEDS
OXYGEN ANYWAY?

WNOXA

EFFED

YOUR SENTENCE
IS COMMUTING

YSISC

ILTOW

DEATH BEFORE
INCONVENIENCE

DBINC

EAT PEOPLE
NOT ANIMALS

EPNAS

HONK IF YOU NEED
AN ABORTION

HIYNA

GIVE UP MY CAR?
I'D RATHER DIE!

GUPMC

MOMMY, WHAT WERE
TREES LIKE?

MWWTL

SMOKERS DO IT
UNTIL THEY'RE DEAD

SDOIT

6 BILLION HUMANS
CAN'T BE WRONG

SIXBH

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TWIMA

DON'T BLAME ME
I'M A PARASITE

DBMIP

GOT MINE
UP YOURS

GMUPY

PREVENT AIDS
AIM FOR THE CHIN

PAAFC

TOOL-WIELDING APE
ON BOARD

TWAOB

EAT A QUEER FETUS
FOR JESUS

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SAVE THE PLANET

KILL YOURSELF

DON'T TOUCH.

DON'T ASK. DON'T TELL.

U.S. Surgeon General's Office #6661294\ 1995

DON'T TOUCH.
DON'T ASK. DON'T TELL.

U.S. Surgeon General's Office #6661212X1995

DTDAM Red and black on white 4.5x4 paper sticker. DTDAF

STPIB The International sticker. Easily understood in any
language. Red and black on white vinyl, 3" x 5".

JESPS An 15"x11 " black and white
poster that graphically depicts the Four
Pillars, with Jesus crucified above them.

SNUFF IT

I lit Ql AH rtWI A JOURNAL Ol

Tills rilllKCll <)E EUTHANASIA

ISSl k «l

DADA IN THE STREETS OF BOSTON

IKH.l.l I I \< mu * MU M \M 111.

I III I I MMINIi

SNUF1 The first issue of Snuff It, the
Quarterly Journal of the CoE. Soon to be
a collector's item. Adults only. 16 pages.

STP12 SAVE THE PLANET, KILL YOURSELF,
the incredible club hit from the Church of
Euthanasia on KEVORKIAN RECORDS! Rev.
Korda receives regular communications from
the “Being.” The messages arrive via psychic
channelling, or “demons in her head.” The Being
is a powerful alien intelligence who speaks for
the inhabitants of Earth in other dimensions.
Move to the throbbing techno/trance beat while
absorbing their hypnotic suggestions. Be part
of the solution! On 12" vinyl.

STPCS No record player? Order it on cassette
tape instead.

DEMCD Rev. Korda’s DEMONS IN MY HEAD
is in a category by itself, according to Brett
Milano of the Boston Phoenix. Subtitled “An
Environmental Punishment in D Minor,” this forty-
four minute one-track sound collage will per¬
manently affect your subconscious mind.
Dante’s Inferno pales by comparison. Right up
there with Eraserhead. On CD only.

SNUFF IT

HU QUARTERLY JOURNAL OF

THE CHURCH OF EUTHANASIA

ISSUE #2

SNUF2 Issue #2. Disgusting. Essential
reading, with many outrageous photos
and graphics. Adults only. 20 pages.

DEMCP A gorgeous 14"x11" color poster
of that creepy DEMONS IN MY HEAD
cover. Stare at it while you're listening to
the CD and you'll have nightmares for
weeks. This is a limited edition. Get one
while they last.

THC CHURCH OF CUTHRARflR
e-sermons: volume I

ESERM A 28-page booklet containing the
first thirteen e-sermons and a transcription
of an incredible lecture by Jeremy Rifkin.

WE ARE THE VEAL

VEAL NEW! A must for
your “pen”. White on
black 3"x10" vinyl
same as the

NOBTS The Church's one commandment is "thou shalt
not procreate." Join the church. Wear the shirt. Thank
you for not breeding. The text is on the front, with the
overpopulated planet (see detail) on the back. White
ink on black 100% cotton T-shirt. Specify L or XL.

STPTS Okay, you want
a SAVE THE PLANET
KILLYOURSELFT-shirt,
but you're not quite ready to
wear the four pillars. Say no y&Stti
more. This one just has the text
on the front, with the international
symbols on the back, in COLOR
no less. White and red ink on black
100% cotton T-shirt. Specify L or XL.

V<** tf VT 4 **

SAVE THE PLANET
KILL YOURSELF

H':rl

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* N A|

% 9*

./ { t j

YOU'RE 60W&
TO XUL MB ?

Of COURSE {
you SpURNEP/MER¬
IT'S ONLY FAlRjy

YSMPS You're going to kill me? Of course!

You spurned me. Another lovely poster
from Lydia Eccles. The perfect gift for O. J.
Simpson fans. Two colors on 22"x22" paper.

MEMBR Membership includes a lifetime
subscription to SNUFF IT, plus the e-sermon
booklet and an embossed certificate suitable
for framing. Procreation = excommunication:
abortion will be required. If you already have
kids, OK, but no more. Adopt!

: *

COETS The official Church of EuthanasiaT-shirt! It says SAVE THE PLANET
KILL YOURSELF on the front in big spiky letters, with a picture of the church
and the four pillars on the back. Bold, agressive, no frills. Pure Dada.
Marcel Duchamp definitely would have worn one. White ink on black 100%
cotton T-shirt. Specify L or XL.

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The Church of Euthanasia
P.O.Box 261
Somerville, MA 02143

RSTDT If they didn't,
how would we tell them
from the Democrats?
Four queer colors on a
big 8.5"x5.5" vinyl sticker.

NIXPS A beautiful commemorative Soviet-
style poster of the man we all loved to hate,
hand-made by local artist Lydia Eccles.
Red & black on heavy white 34"x26" paper.

SNUFF IT

THE JOURNAL OF

THE CHURCH OF EUTHANASIA

EATING FETUS IN CHINA
TOP TEN REASONS TO VOTE UNABOMBER
INTERVIEW WITH AN EX-MEMBER

SNUF3 Issue #3 of Snuff It. Bodies
for Christ, eating fetus, airborne virus,
suicide watch, voting Unabomber,
transexual sodomy, vasectomy,
excommunication & more, 32 pages.

YOU WILL RECYCLE THIS

STICKERS

All stickers are white on black 3"xl0" vinyl, $1.00 each, except:

I WOOD

by Rev. Chris Korda

Make yourself as comfortable as possible. Okay, now close
your eyes, relax, and try to imagine yourself dying. It’s
bound to happen eventually, right? So try to imagine
yourself dying. It could be suddenly or gradually, by
chance or by design, far in the future, or tomorrow, but
imagine yourself passing into the twilight world between
life and death. Your body is letting go, growing heavy,
the life force is passing out of it, and finally your body is
completely, irrevocably, dead. Now there’s a ceremony,
a wake, and your friends and family are gathered around
your body, expressing their love for you, honoring you,
wishing you well. Meanwhile, your detailed instructions
for the disposal of your body have mysteriously
disappeared, and so, due to circumstances beyond anyone’s
control, your body is buried, naked, without casket or
shroud, in the forest.

Time is passing. Your body is decomposing, rotting,
breaking down into the simple substances that sustain
organic life. The worms and beetles are chewing,
burrowing into you, digesting you, I know it’s creepy, but
don’t worry; you can’t feel it. They’re just playing their
role, doing what they do best: helping the Earth recycle
you. After a lifetime of eating, consuming the riches of
the Earth, now the Earth is eating you. You’re part of the
food chain after all, because while your body’s nutrients
are slowly dissolving into the soil, they’re being absorbed
by the roots of a tree.

Now try to imagine that nameless part of yourself that
survives every stage of death. Beyond your ego, beyond

flexible but incredibly strong, and covered with bark instead
of skin. And instead of arms and a head, you have a
profusion of branches, ending in thousands of delicate twigs
instead of fingers. And your twigs are thrust out in every
direction, towards the heavens, towards the sun, and instead
of hair, they’re covered with tender, green leaves.

Feel the warm sun beating down on your leaves.
Breathe. Breathe with your leaves. In . . . out. In . . .
out. Your leaves are a million tiny lungs. Feel how they
ripple in the breeze. Your branches are swaying, gently
swaying, back and forth, back and forth, and the sap is
running up and down your trunk, carrying nutrients from
the soil up to the branches and leaves. Birds are resting on
you, and insects scurry around on your bark, but they move
so fast you barely notice them. Time has slowed down for
you. You’re not going anywhere.

Day becomes twilight, and then night. The stars come
out, and the moon rises. Feel the other trees, all around
you. You’re one tree, among many other trees, in the
forest. Hear the sound of the forest. Animals, birds,
insects, singing the song of the Earth. You’re singing too,
with a deep, slow sound, all the trees singing together.
Mist creeps along the ground, and the stars fade, as dawn
approaches. The song is louder now, and your leaves are
wet with dew. The sun creeps over the horizon, and into
the sky.

Days pass. Weeks pass, and the air gets colder. Your
leaves are dry and brittle, and the wind blows them away.
Now the ground is hard, and ice covers everything. Your
sap thickens, the snow lies heavy on your branches,
and the forest is still. In the stillness of winter,
all along your twigs and branches, tiny buds

your consciousness; your highest self, your spirit. Try to
imagine that while your body is composting, feeding the
tree’s roots, your spirit is also passing into the tree. And
slowly, very slowly, you begin to have sensation again.
New, unfamiliar sensation. Where your feet used
to be, you have roots that sink deep into the
warm, moist Earth. And where your
poor, aching spine used to be,

you have a thick trunk, V.

are forming, under the ice.

As the years pass, you grow
bigger, and bigger still. Your roots
crack open boulders, birds make nests
in your branches, and animals hide
in the caverns of your trunk.
Beneath your roots, the flesh of
your old body is gone, and
even the bones crumble,
but your spirit lives on.

Ik,;-'

WHAT DO WANT? ABORTION! WHEN DO WE WANT IT? NOW! WHY DO WANT IT? BECAUSE IT TASTES GOOD!

CK: We had at least 20 of our own people there, and we
were marching down the street in formation with all of our
stuff. The cops saw us coming, and the first thing they
said was, “If you turn on that megaphone, we’re going to
arrest all of you.” We came and we stayed—we were there
for hours, in the rain. There were two TV stations, the
cops were videotaping, the clinic was videotaping, the
Christians were videotaping. It was a pitched battle: they
had their trench and we had ours, and they were singing
their hymns and praying and we were singing “Every Sperm
is Sacred” and “All we are saying is fetus pate”—

LE: That was also where Nevada’s speech premiered, right?
CK: “Abortion as a Sacred Right.” [see page 9] Pastor
Kim screamed it at them until he lost his voice.

LE: The police kept you behind the barricades for a while,
until Vermin noticed that some of the Christians were doing
a walking picket in front of the clinic. So he said, “If they
can walk, we can walk.” People were sneaking out one by
one, and you ended up with a walking picket that was half
Christians and half Church of Euthanasia. One person
would walk by with a scraped fetus and right behind them
would be someone holding “Fetuses are for Scraping.”
CK: [laughs]

LE: And it was really confusing. The best thing about
these events is that it creates confusion as to who’s on what
side.

CK: We were standing in front of one of the clinics where
a shooting had taken place not even a year ago, and there
were five people from NOW [National Organization for
Women] facing hundreds of Christians—it seemed to me
that the situation called for extreme tactics. The pro-life
agenda is fundamentally coercive; they want to push you
into a situation where you have to respond to them. They
seize control of the issue, and try to pin the violence on
you, but we know perfectly well that the violence is coming
from them. So our object is to unseat the Christians, to
expose the violence that’s slumbering in them. We want
the violence to be on the surface, because when it’s out in
the open, it’s less dangerous.

LE: I think NOW’s big problem is that they permit
themselves to play the role of audience, and of course the
news isn’t going to cover the audience at a theatrical event.
CK: NOW is fucking up. Abortion is restricted in almost
every state, and if you don’t have money, forget it. Why

are the Christians winning?
They’re winning because their
tactics are better: they have
good timing, they’re
imaginative, they use visuals
well, and they definitely go
for the throat. But they count
on people taking them
seriously, and that’s their
Achilles heel. It makes them
extremely susceptible to
ridicule; the one thing they
can’t stand is being made fun
of. They try to intimidate
everyone with shock tactics
and disgusting props, but we
can out-shock and out-disgust
them any day. We’re seizing the moral low ground right
out from under them.

LE: Let’s go to the third abortion clinic demonstration, at
Gynecare, and this is where you introduced the Pedophile
Priests for Life.

CK: We did some reconnaissance this time. I went down
there myself a week early and fraternized with the
Christians—it turned out they all belonged to a group called
“Our Lady’s Crusaders for Life.” I talked to them quite a
bit and managed to get a hold of one of their newsletters.

PHOTOS: LYDIA ECCLES

PHOTO: LYDIA ECCLES

LE: That’s kind of a handy aspect of your dressing in
women’s clothes, that you can go undercover as a man.
CK: Absolutely, it’s very convenient. I think a lot of them
still haven’t put two and two together.

LE: That’s where we get our little line, “Don’t be fooled
by the dress.”

CK: So the newsletter was denouncing the Catholic church
for allowing sex education in Catholic schools. They had
an example of some “obscene” Catholic sex-ed material,
and it was all about eggs and sperm and God’s plan—no
mention of orgasm or masturbation, not even the slightest
hint that sex might be enjoyable. It went on and on about
the miracle of life—it even said a fetus has the same rights
as a person, but it was still too much for them. They wanted
to burn the books. I remember talking to Nevada about it,
and understanding that the real issue is sexual pleasure.
These people are terrified of human sexuality, and
especially of pleasure.

LE: The basic point is they want to make it impossible for
people to have sex without having children. It’s not that
they care about fetuses, it’s that they want to stop sex.
CK: They want to stop sex because it’s so connected to the
body. The body reminds them of death, and they can’t
deal with death, so they deny the body—in the old days
they tortured it too, especially if it was female. They idolize
innocence and virginity, and meanwhile the priests can’t
keep their hands off the altar boys. How could they be
expected to? It’s ridiculous. The sexual urges are still
there, and the boys are a safe outlet. People can’t deny
their sexuality, it just comes back in another way.

LE: ACT UP has brought this out a lot, they have these
special condoms for priests—it’s well known that many
men join the priesthood because they’re homosexual
anyway.

CK: I’d been reading Wilhelm Reich all year, and thinking
about sexuality, and I came to the conclusion that he was

absolutely right. He
said that one of the
greatest mistakes our
society makes is the
repression of

childhood sexuality;
that children should be
not just free but
encouraged to explore
sexually; to explore
their own bodies and
to explore the bodies
of other children their
own age —that it’s
healthy and positive.
Meanwhile I just
happened to have these
beautiful line drawings
of naked boys, so I put
two and two together,
blew them up, and
added in giant letters
“SEX IS GOOD” and
“Pedophile Priests for
Life.” I also made a
new batch of signs, yellow ones with black letters that said
“Drink Your Holy Water.” This was a bit of a pun [and a
reference to Snuff It #2] because if you make Pedophile
Priests for Life into an acronym it spells PPFL, which
sounds like “pee-pee fell.”

LE: How about Brigitte?

CK: Pastor Kim and I were talking about how to symbolize
the situation and we came up with the idea of a blow-up
doll on a cross. So I went down to the zone [where the
porn shops are] and found a lovely blond doll named
Brigitte. I put her on a giant wooden cross, and gave her
a blue-and-white striped hospital robe, ankle socks, rosary
beads, a crown of thorns made of barbed wire—plus she
had a carnivorous baby coming out of her vagina, with
blood dripping down its chin. A real traffic stopper.

LE: It definitely created massive confusion. I’m sure a lot
of people, including the tour buses that were passing by,
thought that those were Christian representations.

CK: Yes! There was confusion and shock and disgust—
LE: Because you also had “Eat A Queer Fetus For Jesus”
there, so there were three different images that related to
Christian imagery.

CK: It wasn’t one group in one trench and one group in
another. It was everybody all mingled together. So you
couldn’t tell anybody from anybody. And there were groups
that we’d never even heard of that were showing up because
of our publicity. We had the pro-masturbation, anti¬
intercourse group that was claiming they were the middle
ground, that both sides were wrong. We had the Satanist
Youth Corps doing their thing—

LE: You had the reelect Michael Dukakis guy...

CK: Yeah, I don’t know how he got in there. Then there
was the Pedophile Priests for Life which were ostensibly a
separate group from the Church of Euthanasia. Pastor Kim
was all dressed up in his priestly outfit. So, it was absolute
bedlam. I mean, if you were walking down the street—

that if I gave Vermin the water penis that he was
going to squirt a Christian with it. I warned him
not to do it, but I knew he was going to do it anyway
and that as soon as he did, all hell would break
loose and he wouldn’t get to do it twice. He didn’t
do it twice, because if he had they would have
arrested him.

LE: The Christians had a megaphone and were
sitting there praying and singing into it throughout
the entire thing. So of course Vermin was on a
megaphone too.

CK: And I was on my megaphone, and the pro¬
masturbation guys had one. There were four
megaphones going at once!

LE: One of my favorite parts was when they started
saying that they were surrounded by demons, that
Satan was among them. They were praying for
help, and then they started saying “God will not
be mocked.” And Vermin meanwhile was yelling
into the megaphone, “God will be mocked and
that’s what we’re here to do!”

CK: [laughs]

LE: And the other thing was that Madonna had
just had her child and Vermin had a great spiel
going about it—“Madonna has just given birth, isn’t

LE: It was a circus. People weren’t just walking
by this time, they were gaping; they were sticking
around to see what would happen.

CK: Dan and his friends were banging on their
tambourines and singing and dancing around—it
was like a Fellini film. I’d never seen anything
like it.

LE: Moments after you guys arrived, the
Christians were on their cell phones calling the
cops and then calling the state cops—I heard the
guy say to them, “We’ve been coming here for
ten years! These people have no right to be here. ”
And the first thing the cop wanted to do was
separate the two groups, which, of course, was
impossible—he had no idea how to separate them,
because he didn’t know who was on what side.
And then he said, “Take me to the leader of this
group” and people said, “there is no leader, just
a lot of people who really believe in what they
have to say.”

CK: That’s right! So then he went over and talked
to Pastor Kim, and I guess he didn’t get anywhere,
because he came back and asked me if I was the
leader, and I said no, I wasn’t the leader. He was
one confused-looking cop. Of course, it had gotten
ugly by that point because Vermin had finally
squirted one of the Christians with his water penis.
LE: He was saying, “Spread those Christian
cheeks to receive the holy water!”

CK: He squirted the guy who was holding the
giant Madonna statue, the same guy who called
the state police, what an asshole—he started
screaming “Assault!” and the cops ran over and
said, “Look, you can’t do that anymore.” I knew

PHOTOS: LYDIA ECCLES

everything was quite visible, and we were out there for an
hour before they did anything about it. Anyway, the cop
says “We’ve received complaints, the doll is lewd and
lascivious, it’s gotta go.” So I said I was just as offended
by the enormous photo of a mangled fetus that the
Christians were displaying right next to me, and why didn’t
that have to go too, and he gives me a stony look and says
“The doll has to go, now.” He wasn’t budging, so I said,
“What if we just close her robe?” and quickly tied it back
up. I think the cameras were having a soothing effect on
him, because he said “Make sure the robe stays closed,”
and walked back to his car [the police are your friends].
LE: They didn’t seem to do anything about the nude boys
on the Pedophile Priests for Life signs.

CK: That’s because we had those little pink crosses over
their penises. I was so tempted to let them hang out, I
agonized over it, but in retrospect I’m glad we drew the
line—I mean, one of them had an erection, and I think if it
hadn’t been for the little pink crosses it would have been
over in 5 minutes instead of an hour and a half.

LE: It was kind of like religious lingerie.

CK: [laughs] Yes it was! And every now and then the
wind would blow and lift up the pink crosses. There was
something kind of lascivious about that too. Between the
young boys and the penis pistol and the blow up doll—the
whole thing had a kind of peep show feeling to it that was
very nice. It was all very sexually charged.

LE: Vermin jumped up on a wall and delivered Nevada’s
speech again, which had the crowd transfixed.

CK: It was even better the second time. It’s great oratory
and it was wonderful to hear it. We screamed until our
megaphones went out, you could hardly hear what was
happening. Everything was going on simultaneously.
LE: That was the power of confusion, I think.

CK: The power of confusion and ambiguity.

that enough for you people?” “It’s the second
coming!” and all that kind of stuff, which
horrified them as well. But one tactic you used,
both at this clinic and the previous one, was
talking about sex and using explicit sexual
terms, yelling them loud in front of these people
to disconcert them, like cock and pussy.

CK: That’s right, we were chanting “sex is
good, pussy is good, cock is good, orgasm is
good” —

LE: And then you went off into a rant about,
“it’s a well-kept secret, but there’s such a thing
as sexual pleasure.”

CK: I was shouting about genitalia, and all
kinds of sex, and how orgasm was good and
positive and nothing to be afraid of. And pretty
soon there was not one, but two, three, four
cop cars—a lot of cops, and a lot of us, and it
was getting to be, you know, pretty exciting.
And then finally the head cop came up to me
and told me that Brigitte had to go. I was
amazed that we got away with it as long as we
did. I mean, we had electrical tape over her
nipples, but her robe was wide open, and her—

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White on black 3 V 2 " x 12" removable vinyl bumper sticker. Send $1 per bumper sticker
That had been the signal. plus $1 postage & handling (CASH ONLY) to: Unapack, POB 120494, Boston, MA 02112

THE AGE OF SIMULATION

by Rev. Chris Korda

A visionary is one who has visions, one who dreams. Visions
are by definition nonverbal experiences, and therefore difficult
to communicate. Throughout most of human history,
nonverbal experience was shared telepathically, and the
atrophy of this ability directly coincides with the end of the
Age of Magic.

There is no way to be sure how long the Age of Magic
lasted, partly because its time was not linear but mythic, and
partly because the continuity and rootedness of Magic-based
cultures encouraged oral rather than written history. It is the
turmoil of Magic’s demise that has inspired people to write
their history down; what most people call history is merely
the brief and violent history of Industrial Society. The history
of the Age of Magic exists, not in libraries or museums, but
in the timeless realm of mystical experience, and within all
beings who maintain their connection to that realm. As the
number of human beings who remain open to spiritual
awareness dwindles, entire aspects of this hidden history
disappear from human knowledge, to be recovered only
laboriously, or perhaps lost forever.

It is possible to communicate visions through any of the
nonverbal media which comprise “art,” but this requires
sensitivity of both the creator and the viewer. Ideally these
two are joined as one, if in not in body, then in spirit. Spiritual
or Magical art is by definition participational , and
encompasses every aspect of life. Unfortunately, sensitivity
and “oneness” are qualities that Industrial Society must
ruthlessly seek out and destroy, in its effort to create passivity
and “sameness.” In Magic, the many meet as one, and return
to the many: in Industrial Society, the many are crushed, and
homogenized into a uniform mass.

Due to the rapid growth of “mass” society, and the
resulting loss of participation in the rituals of Magical art, I
am obliged to verbalize, and communicate my visions through
the written or spoken word. In a mass society only that
knowledge which conforms to the inherent laws of mass
communication can be kept alive and disseminated. These
laws have been explained in great detail by others; suffice it
to say that the verbal forms of mass communication require,
above all, that knowledge be rational.

Since spiritual knowledge emanates from aspects of reality
that are beyond the scope of rationalism, it follows that
spiritual knowledge cannot be verbalized except approximately
and allegorically. This paradox led early Chinese thinkers to
divide reality into two spheres of influence: the spheres of
Relative and Absolute Truth. According to this division, all
verbalized experience, and by extension all spoken or written
communication, is relative, because it depends on the
participants’ points of view, and on the symbolic language
that each participant applies to their observations. Thus Lao-
Tze proclaimed in the Book of Changes that “the Tao that has
a name, is not the true Tao.” Absolute Truth was assumed to
be nonverbal, and accessible only though meditation.

This caveat was lost on many subsequent thinkers,
including the ancient Greeks. The confusion of reality with
words about reality led to insoluble philosophical
contradictions, including the conflict between rationalism and
empiricism. The empiricists, led by Francis Bacon, held that

all knowledge derived from the senses, while the rationalists,
led by Descartes, argued that knowledge was acquired by
reason alone. The dilemma was brought to a head by Hume,
and threatened to undermine the still-delicate foundation of
material science. Though Kant eventually negotiated a truce,
by ceding mathematics and logic to the rationalists, while
claiming the rest for empiricism, the corresponding split
between Mind and Body continues to this day. Meanwhile
both sides cheerfully extended the mechanical world-view into
every human pursuit, and thus laid the foundations of Industrial
Society. The result of their zeal is a senseless world in which
all truth is relative, and it is to this world, and its mass society,
that I find myself attempting to communicate my irrational
visions of Absolute Truth, hampered by a lack of spirit, not
only in people, but in the language itself.

In spite of these difficulties, I begin by agreeing with
Jeremy Rifkin that this is the Age of Simulation. By this I
mean that people now accept mediated experience in the place
of real experience. This change has taken place in a series of
leaps, each corresponding to a technological innovation. The
printing press, camera, telephone, radio, television, and
computer form a continuum; with each “advance” the
simulation becomes more complete. The simulation spreads,
by eliminating human capacities it has no use for, while
excessively stimulating others; in this sense it behaves like a
virus, which replicates by altering the structure of its host.
Simulation creates conditions favorable to itself by isolating
people from other living beings, by reducing their range of
sensation, and especially by narrowing their attention span.
Parents and teachers, unable to grasp this, surround children
with televisions and computers, and then complain about
learning disabilities and “attention disorders.”

As Rifkin points out, today’s children dismiss someone
with the phrase “you’re history,” and as history recedes, the
future becomes equally uncertain. Unlike the Iroquois, who
considered the impact of their deliberations on the next seven
generations, today’s leaders plan no further than their
reelection. Obsession with an ever-changing present destroys
continuity: the cycles of gradual change so essential to
biological and spiritual health, are shattered into furtive,
splintered motion. Calculus becomes a way of life, as matter,
energy and even time are quantized into ever-smaller units.
The search for irreducible elements conceals the desire to
standardize , to make things uniform and interchangeable;
humans seek total control, to avoid the disorder that their
control-lust creates.

Through simulation, humans seek not only to concentrate
all their knowledge in the present, but to use that knowledge,
as power to transform the present, ever more quickly. Thus
while the stated goal of technological “progress” is increased
efficiency , which by itself seems beneficial, the concealed
goal is to use that efficiency, not to reduce waste, but to go
even faster. Yesterday’s model is discarded, efficient or not,
and as the speed of development increases, more and more of
earth’s structure is consumed, and dissipated as waste and
heat. This dissipation is entropy , or unrecoverable energy.

Entropy describes not only energy loss, but also the
tendency of order to expand and decay into chaos. On a
universal scale, chaos, like death, is inevitable, but “progress”
towards it can be slowed down, or even reversed, if only
temporarily. Life itself is a miracle of negative entropy: chaos

evolves, in a harmony of self-sustaining changes, and the
monoculture of primordial nothingness, over eons of time,
becomes biological diversity. Humans try to mimic nature’s
feat, and succeed in creating short-term order and complexity
in one place, but only at the price of creating long-term chaos
and loss of diversity somewhere else. In this way a forest,
which for practical purposes would have lasted forever, is
traded for consumer goods that will last a few years, or for
packaging, to be discarded immediately. Similarly, America’s
Great Plains, once built for eternity, generate riches for a
time, but meanwhile the topsoil washes into the sea, never to
return. Shifting sand demonstrates high entropy; the
expanding man-made deserts are a grim reminder that
Industrial Society’s goal is not to “steward” the earth, or
even sustain life on it, but to use it.

But use it for what? Simulation continues to masquerade
as convenience, or as novelty, but its object has always been
to replace reality. This is now openly acknowledged in the
term “virtual reality.” Just as the mechanical world-view
permitted standardized information to be collected, and
centralized as surveillance , so that surveillance now permits
the assimilation of reality by machines. The process is
destructive and one-way: as aspects of reality are reduced to
commodity, and assimilated as data, they are disfigured and
erased. This is illustrated by nature shows, in which extinct
species live on, as stored information. 1

Simulation concentrates mental energy at the expense of
the physical. The resulting imbalance exhausts the body,
making assimilation more urgent. The virtual reality is an
out-of-body experience , and the mind must free itself of the
body, or lose its war of secession. Industrial Society attempts
to extend the body’s life, or even replace it, through bionics
and genetic engineering, but these efforts only cause more
disruption, and divert energy from healing the split between
Mind and Body. As the mind abandons the body, entropy
begins to manifest itself in devastating syndromes, such as
AIDS and cancer. The split is a belief system, and can be
unlearned, to varying degrees; thus true healers consider belief
to be their single greatest obstacle.

Humans have been usefully compared to cancer, but it is
a mistake to assume that cancer is genetic in origin, and that
humans are therefore inevitably programmed to destroy the
planet. It is the mechanical world-view of Industrial Society
which is destroying the planet; humans are merely the agents
by which this world-view is applied. In this sense the cancer
is ideological, and humans cannot be blamed for the
desecration, anymore than a dreamer can be blamed for a
nightmare. Though irreversible, the desecration is
preventable, and can be stopped at any time, so it is not a
question of blame at all, but of how to wake the dreamer,
without further injury.

The ideological cancer has its roots in humanism , the
Sophist idea that “man is the measure of all things. ” Goethe’s
followers built on this notion to create their pyramidal “levels
of being,” with humans at the top, a chosen species for whom
all was created, and without whom all would have no meaning.
When Europeans arrived in the New World, this hierarchy of
consciousness was their chief ideological export; it was poorly
received by the First People, who in general saw themselves
as part of a larger organism, and no better, or worse than any
other living thing. 2

Humanism views man as the super-ape, who seeks to
bend nature to his will through the use of his reason. The
next logical step is to the super-man or trans-human , who
seeks to liberate his reason from the biological limitations of
nature, and thus achieve immortality. The cancer, faced with
the immanent death of its host, makes plans to escape, by
building machines and transferring itself into them. The
danger is not that humans, in the grip of their nightmare, will
actually build machines capable of self-awareness and
interplanetary conquest, but that in attempting this folly, they
will damage the earth so severely that life will no longer be
possible, even for humans. 3

The Hopis saw Industrial Society in visions, thousands
of years ago, and though they did not always comprehend
these visions at the time, they preserved them in the form of
prophecies, which only now begin to make sense. An example
is their prophecy that there would be cobwebs spun back and
forth in the sky. This can be understood not only as a reference
to power lines, but also to the trails of light made by our
ground and air vehicles, as revealed in time-elapse
photography. 4 These changes in perception illustrate the
Hopi’s ability to shift their awareness, in this case from fleeting
human consciousness to the slower vibrations of the vegetable
and mineral worlds.

The Hopis are well aware of the power of dreams, and
they know that our illness is a matter of the heart. They have
also recognized the many signs that the illness becomes
terminal, and have repeatedly attempted to warn the world
through the United Nations, finally succeeding in 1992. The
signs have included earthquakes and drastic changes in weather
patterns, as well as Mother Earth “crying” through the
formation of crop circles. These are symptoms not only of
deforestation and massive extinction of species, but of
geological damage to the earth. Mining in general, and
particularly mining of radioactive materials, is seen as a direct
assault on the planet, and on its magnetic balance and weather.
By spewing waste into the air and water, humans poison the
planet’s blood, but by digging precious things from the land,
humans injure the vital organs of a living organism, and invite
disaster, for all beings. The Hopis are sworn to protect the
treasures that lie beneath them. In victory or defeat, they
stand for the ultimate truth that earth is sacred.

1. It is truly ironic that humans regain their long-lost oneness only in mass
hallucination. The experience is collective because its source is not the
diversity of organic life, but the technological monoculture.

2. This is illustrated by Lakota hunters, who left a piece of their flesh at the
spot where an animal was killed, as a symbol of their indebtedness, and as
a reminder that through death, came life. Even if modern man left fingers
in fast-food restaurants, the ritual would be empty; the killing is not done by
him, but anonymously, by remote control.

3. This danger is often downplayed by technological Utopians; books such
as Third Wave and Futureshock present the soft side of trans-humanism. By
comparison, the libertarian trans-humanists, also known as Extropians, speak
openly of “downloading” human awareness into machines, gutting other
planets, and turning the universe into a cyberspace.

4. The film Koyaanisqatsi, which explored this discovery, takes its name
from the Hopi word for disintegration , crazy life, or a state of life that calls
for another way of being. Commuters are compared to sausages flowing
through a packaging plant, and a rocket launch becomes the ultimate symbol
of Industrial Society.

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